


Brown-Eyed Monster

by LadyLibby



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Hotch POV, Jealous!Hotch, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Papa Rossi to the rescue, Romance, Team Dynamics, i feel like Hotch yearns, like hardcore, original case, so theres that too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:02:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28875393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLibby/pseuds/LadyLibby
Summary: As the BAU heads to Seattle to catch a serial killer, it seems like it’s going to be just like any other case. But when the agent leading the case takes an interest in you, Hotch is forced to question whether he actually wants to keep your relationship strictly professional.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader, Aaron Hotchner/You
Comments: 14
Kudos: 162





	Brown-Eyed Monster

**Author's Note:**

> I'm moving into college (for real this time) for the first time today! To celebrate, here's a Hotch oneshot I had a ton of fun writing that I hope you'll also have fun reading!

##  **F.B.I Behavioral Analysis Unit Headquarters**

**Quantico, Virginia**

**Tuesday | 9:00 a.m.**

“Special delivery,” You called, your hands too full of coffee trays to knock on the office door. 

You heard the familiar sound of a desk chair rolling across the floor and then the tip tap of heels before the door swung open. F.B.I Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia stood before you, dressed in her signature bright colors and interesting patterns. 

“What is this gorgeous vision I see before me?” She exclaimed with a smile, waving you into her ‘lair.’ 

“You’re my first stop so I can’t stay long, but–” You set the trays down on the filing cabinet and selected the right cup before holding it out for her. “One large caramel macchiato with an extra shot and whipped cream on top for Penelope Garcia.” 

“You,” Garcia accepted the drink with a smile, “Are simply a goddess.” 

“Takes one to know one.” You said, the two of you sharing a regal nod. 

Laughing, you picked up the trays again and turned back to the door. You headed up to the main bullpen of the BAU, somehow managing to keep the drinks all balanced as you pushed doors open with your hip. 

The last one was grabbed for you, held open by a familiar toned arm. Morgan met you with an arched eyebrow and a half-cocked smile. 

“I didn’t know we hired a new intern.” 

“Ha ha.” You replied dryly, rolling your eyes as you walked past him into the office. “I can give your coffee to Reid if you don’t want it.” 

Reid’s head perked up, looking at you over the top of the desk dividers. “You brought coffee?” 

“I did indeed.” You smiled. 

You put the trays on your desk and sorted out the cups as the others watched with interest. 

“A chai with two shots for Prentiss,” You said, handing each drink out, “A medium decaf hazelnut for JJ, a large coffee with cream and four sugars for Reid…” 

You turned back to where Morgan had been leaning against your desk, holding out his coffee cup for him. 

“And a regular, no-frills, coffee with cream for Morgan.” 

“Babygirl, you are a gift.” Morgan smiled, accepting his drink. 

“What’s the occasion?” Reid asked, his unruly hair flopping as he sat back down. 

“ _ Besides _ the fact that I love you all very much,” You answered, “This is to celebrate my first day of teaching yesterday.” 

“The profiling course!” Prentiss said, remembering. “How did it go?” 

“Good, I think.” You nodded. “They’re all really engaged, which honestly does half of my job for me.” 

“I’m sure you’re a great teacher, too.” JJ said, her sincerity making your heart warm. 

“Thank you,” You smiled. “I think it’ll be good for me to do this. You know, remember why we got into this in the first place.” 

“Yeah,” Morgan huffed, “Everyone wants to be a profiler. But no one really understands what it’s like until you’re here.” 

“And yet we stay.” You said, grabbing the last two coffees, “Speaking of which, I have two more deliveries to make.” 

As the others returned to their work, you headed up the stairs to the two separate offices. Rossi’s was closest, and you poked your head through the open door to see him at his desk. 

“Good morning, sir,” You said, drawing his attention away from the files he was looking at. “I have a coffee for you.” 

He sent you a questioning look as you walked in and set the cup in front of him. Rossi picked it up and took a sip. 

“Italian roast.” He said, nodding in approval. “Just what I like.” 

“I know.” You said, barely containing your smile. 

He waved you off, smiling good-naturedly. “Kiss-ass.” 

You laughed, leaving his office and heading next door to Hotch’s office. You tapped your knuckles gently against the wood. 

“Come in,” Hotch called, the mere sound of his deep no-nonsense voice making a smile pull at your lips. 

You opened the door and stepped inside. He didn’t look up right away, frowning slightly at the paperwork on his desk. 

“Hey, Hotch.” You said softly. 

At the sound of your voice, he lifted his gaze, meeting your eyes. His expression softened into something more relaxed, an almost-smile on his lips. 

“L/N,” He greeted. “Good morning.” 

“Good morning,” You returned, stepping forward and holding out the coffee cup. “This is for you.” 

His eyes widened slightly in surprise as he accepted it from you. His fingers brushed yours as you handed it off. You tried to ignore the tingle the touch sent down your spine. 

“Thank you.” Hotch leaned back a bit in his chair, taking a sip. “How did your class go yesterday?” 

You perched on the arm of one of the chairs across from his desk, your usual spot when you and Hotch talked. 

“Good. I started them off with a case and asked for theories to find out the baseline of profiling knowledge I’m working with.” 

“Which case?” 

“The Katie Jacobs kidnapping.” You said. “They did pretty well with it. After that I went back and worked on some basic psych stuff to fill in the gaps.” 

“When’s the next one?” 

“Next week, same time.” You said. “I’m prepping the Stanley Howard case to start talking about serial killers.” 

“Good plan.” He nodded. “Mind if I sit in?”

“Oh no,” You shook your head. “Don’t do that.” 

Hotch frowned. “Why not?” 

“You’ll make people nervous.” You said. 

“‘People?’” He repeated, studying you carefully. 

“Fine. You’ll make me nervous.” You admitted, looking away as your cheeks heated up. 

“I don’t usually make you nervous.” There was a hint of a question in his voice. 

“No.” 

Although it wasn’t an outright lie, your answer wasn’t entirely true, either. When you were with Hotch, you felt simultaneously comfortable and also completely on-edge. You trusted him with your life and you were more than willing to lay down yours for him. But the sound of his voice made your stomach do flips and the brush of his hand made your heart race. Though you knew exactly what your feelings indicated, you chose to keep those thoughts to yourself in the name of professionalism.

“This is different, though. Normally we’re here or in the field, and I’m used to that.” You said, trying to cover your tracks. “I’m still getting the hang of teaching.” 

“I wouldn’t be a distraction,” Hotch said, “Just a silent auditor.” 

“Yeah, well, all of my students want to join the BAU someday so there’s no way the unit chief is going to go unnoticed.” 

Hotch didn’t get the chance to press the issue further as JJ knocked on the open door, drawing both of your attention. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” She said, gaze moving from you to Hotch. “But we have a case.”

You rose to your feet again, sending Hotch a small smile. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” You said, leaving the office so JJ could give Hotch the case details. 

The team had been called out to Seattle, and considering the length of the plane ride, Hotch decided to save the briefing for the jet. He and JJ handed out crime scene photos and various pieces of the case file while they laid out the details. 

“Four bodies were uncovered yesterday in Tiger Mountain State Forest, about half an hour outside downtown Seattle. All single women in their thirties without children or close family. Only the most recent victim, Joyce Miller, was reported missing two weeks ago by a colleague.” JJ said. “Each of the victims were restrained and stabbed to death. They also had their uteruses removed.” 

You grimaced at the crime scene photos, but studied them anyway, looking for any details that might be necessary. 

“Removed post-mortem?” Reid asked. 

“As far as we know, yes.” 

“The first victim, Casey Hicks, seems to have been dead for at least a year based on the level of decay.” Hotch continued. “The second, Lydia Talbot, about six months ago. Reese Underhill a month ago, and Joyce Miller only two weeks ago.” 

“The cool down time between kills is getting shorter.” Morgan said. “The unsub is having a harder time controlling his urge.” 

“And now his dumping ground is compromised.” Prentiss added. “That adds pressure.” 

“What about the uteruses?” You spoke up, “I mean, it’s a  _ specific _ thing to take.” 

“Likely sexually motivated.” Reid said. “Stabbing suggests he may be impotent. Maybe the uteruses are a way of asserting power?” 

“Or taking it away.” You mused. 

“Perhaps.” Reid tilted his head in consideration. “Although historically the uterus has been associated with female disempowerment. The word ‘hysteria’ actually comes from the Greek word for uterus and hysterectomies were often prescribed as treatments for anxiety disorders and depression in women up until the late twentieth century. The uterus was seen as a weakening element of the body.” 

You bit back a smile, meeting Prentiss and JJ’s gazes briefly. 

“What?” Reid asked, looking between the three of you. 

“Just...that’s one we already knew.” JJ said, patting him on the shoulder. 

Reid nodded slowly, realization dawning on his face. “Right.” 

You smiled to yourself, looking down at the file for a moment before feeling the tingle at the back of your neck of someone else’s gaze. 

Turning your head, you met Hotch’s eyes from where he sat across the aisle. He held your gaze for a moment, amber eyes warm as he looked at you. You felt your chest tighten with affection and your stomach flip with anticipation.

Then the spell broke as Morgan said something else, pointing out the restful poses the women had been buried in, noting the sign of remorse from the unsub. Hotch cleared his throat softly, breaking eye contact. Trying to hide your brief moment of distraction, you turned back to the table, joining in the discussion of your various theories for the rest of the flight. 

##  **F.B.I Field Office**

**Seattle, Washington**

**Tuesday | 11:13 a.m.**

In the nearly two decades since leaving the Seattle Field Office for the BAU, Aaron Hotchner had returned on only a handful of occasions for various cases over the years. Coming back always felt a little bit like visiting college years and years after graduation. All the hallways and rooms and desks were the same, bringing back memories of the cases he’d worked as a younger man, still new to profiling, completely ignorant of all that was to come in his life. 

The layout hadn’t changed, but the people had. He recognized a few faces here and there, but most of the agents had been assigned or reassigned since the BAU’s last visit. The agent leading this case was one of the new faces. 

“The BAU, I assume?” The agent said, taking in the team as they walked inside. 

Hotch stepped forward, extending his hand. “SSA Aaron Hotchner.”

“Sam Gregory.” The agent said, accepting the handshake. “I’m the lead agent on the case.”

Hotch stepped back again, nodding to each team member as he introduced them. “SSA David Rossi, Dr. Spencer Reid, and special agents Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Y/N L/N, and Jennifer Jareau.”

“JJ is fine.” JJ said, “We spoke on the phone earlier.”

Agent Gregory didn’t look at her right away, his eyes lingering on Y/N instead. His gaze ran over her body, a spark of interest in his eyes and a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. Irritation flared in Hotch’s chest, the reaction involuntary but intense. He cleared his throat, wanting to draw Gregory away from Y/N. 

“Yes,” Agent Gregory said distractedly, finally turning to JJ. “Yes, of course. The conference room is all set up for you.”

If anyone else had noticed Gregory checking Y/N out, they didn’t show it. As they all followed Gregory to the conference room, Hotch tried to shake off the angry discomfort the sight had elicited. He had to stay focused on the case, he had to remain professional. 

Besides, Hotch reasoned with himself, he had no reason to be irritated. He and Y/N were colleagues, friends. He had no right to feel upset about another man finding her attractive. She  _ was _ beautiful, but not just because she looked good, because she carried herself with a certain presence that made her...captivating.

Hotch was well aware of that. Thinking about it, he was surprised this didn’t happen more often– agents and detectives or anyone with decent eyesight taking an interest in her. He’d been wondering for a while why she wasn’t in a relationship. Beyond being gorgeous, she was also one of the smartest people he’d ever met, and one of the kindest. Anyone would be lucky to be with her. 

Not that he wanted her to be with just  _ anyone _ , he thought, as Gregory pulled out Y/N’s chair for her, sending her a charming smile. Hotch felt another flare of irritation in his chest when she smiled back and thanked him. 

“Let’s get started.” Hotch said, his tone clipped. “Morgan and Prentiss, I want you to take a look at the victims’ apartments.” 

“I’ll go to Joyce Miller’s workplace and interview the person who reported her missing.” JJ said. 

“I want to take a look at the dump site.” Rossi said. 

“I’ll go with you.” Reid volunteered, straightening the strap of his messenger bag. 

“Fine.” Hotch nodded, “L/N and I will stay here and work on building the geographical profile.” 

“I’d also like to look at the medical examiner’s report.” Y/N said, looking at the pictures tacked to the case board. 

“I’ll pull that for you.” Gregory said, moving to the door. 

Hotch set his jaw as he looked to the others. “Let’s get to work.” 

The team dispersed as Gregory returned with the report. He handed it to Y/N with another charming smile. She thanked him distractedly, already busy reading through the paperwork. 

Hotch forced the irritation away, refocusing on the case board in front of him. They had an unsub to catch. 

Hotch worked on the map between phone calls from the rest of the team in the field, trying to ignore the way Gregory kept looking at Y/N while she looked through the reports. 

“Hotch, I think I have something.” Her voice drew his attention, the sound of it releasing a bit of the tension in his shoulders. 

He and Gregory both moved towards her to look over at the file, but Hotch made sure he got there faster. Putting his hand on the back of her chair, he leaned over her shoulder, feeling a flicker of pride as Gregory was forced to keep his distance. 

“It was hard to tell because of the other stab wounds, but the uterus was the only organ removed from all four victims. And it was done carefully.” She said. “The examiner identified that a more precise tool like a scalpel or other surgical instrument was used to remove the organ, rather than the knife that was used to stab them.” 

“So we’re looking at someone with medical experience.” Gregory said. 

“Or at least anatomical knowledge and access to medical equipment.” Y/N amended, before turning to look at Hotch. 

As their gazes met, her eyes widened slightly, as if realizing how close they were— their noses nearly brushed as she’d turned. Hotch felt a twinge of affection in his chest at her surprise. She’d been so engrossed in her thoughts she hadn’t had a chance to notice much else. 

“Call Garcia and have her run our list of victims against medical facilities in the area.” He said. 

Y/N inhaled, lingering a moment before breaking eye contact with him as she dialed Garcia’s number. Hotch dug his fingers into the back of the chair, fighting the sudden impulse to reach up and turn her face back towards his. 

“Emporium of All Things Worth Knowing,” Garcia answered, her voice coming through on speaker phone. “Garcia speaking.” 

“Garcia, we need you to run the list of victims against medical facilities in the area.” Hotch said. “Did they go to the same doctor, doctors in the same practice, or the same building?” 

“Presto change-o and…” They heard the clatter of her keyboard. “Lydia Talbot and Joyce Miller both saw doctors in the same medical complex, but the other two have different GPs.” 

“I’ll have our people look into the one Miller and Talbot visited.” Gregory said. 

Hotch straightened, thinking through the next step. “What about other doctors? Dentists, optometrists, surgeons, anything?” 

He heard the clacking of her keyboard again. “Bingo. All four visited the same gynecologist’s office: Women’s Health Seattle. Although Casey Hicks saw a different doctor from the others.” 

“Close enough. Do any of the doctors there have a history of abuse, maybe were in the foster system at some point?” Y/N asked. 

“Alas, all three of our MDs have records clean enough they’re sparkling.” Garcia said. “Also, they’re all women. Although I don’t know if I’d want to see a male gynecologist. Seems a little...icky.” 

Gregory huffed out a laugh, making Y/N look at him. She shook her head, smiling slightly at Garcia’s antics. 

“You’re on speakerphone, Garcia.” Hotch cut in, frowning. 

“Right.”

“Garcia,” Y/N spoke up, “Do you have access to the victims’ medical records?” 

“For you, my gorgeous warrior princess, I can get access to anything.” 

“Did any of the victims have any hereditary diseases or any disorders that could be inherited?” Y/N asked. “The uterus is just...it’s so specific. I think the unsub is making a point of taking away these women’s ability to carry children, even after death. The method of murder suggests an abuse survivor but maybe we’re looking at a house cleaner.”

“A house cleaner?” Gregory asked. 

“Some serial killers believe it’s their job to right the wrongs of the world by ‘cleaning house,’ or killing anyone they think is causing the problems.” Y/N explained. 

Hotch nodded, enjoying the ease and authority with which she spoke. She was definitely a good teacher. A small smile pulled at his lips.

“Like Yevegeny Chuplinsky.” Gregory said, “The Novosibirsk Maniac.” 

“Yes,” Y/N said, clearly impressed by the connection. “It’s the same pathology.” 

Hotch’s smile immediately dropped, quickly turning into a scowl. 

“I’m sorry to rain on the serial killer parade,” Garcia’s voice spoke up, “But all four women had a clean bill of health.” 

“Okay,” Y/N sighed, “Thanks, Garcia.” 

“Until next time, mortals.” 

The line clicked off. Hotch stepped back so Y/N could get out of her chair and pace a bit as she thought. She looked as stuck as he felt, with her hands on her hips and her expression slightly far away. 

“Is she part of your team too?” Gregory asked, nodding to the phone. 

“Oh. Yeah,” Y/N nodded. “That was our technical analyst. She’s great.” 

“Clearly that’s a requirement to join.” Gregory said, smiling at Y/N again. “Maybe I should set my career ambitions in a new direction.” 

Hotch clenched his jaw. 

Y/N turned her head, smiling at Hotch over her shoulder. “See? I told you everyone wants to join the BAU.” 

“And very few actually make the cut.” Hotch ground out, feeling grateful for the distraction as his phone began to ring. “Excuse me.”

Hotch stepped outside the conference room, taking a breath before answering the call. Reid reported back from the dump site, saying the unsub almost certainly lured the victims to a secondary location, killed them, and then brought them to the state forest. What the police originally identified as evidence of a struggle were more indicative of the bodies being dragged to their graves. 

“Alright,” Hotch nodded, putting pieces together in his head. “Come back to the field office.” 

Once the team had gathered, bringing each other up to speed on their various findings, they were ready to deliver the profile. 

“The unsub is likely a white male, aged twenty-five to thirty-five.” Hotch began, “We believe he currently works or has previous experience in the medical field.” 

“The unsub is physically non-threatening and appears trustworthy which has allowed him to lure these women into his grasp.” Y/N continued. “He may be a survivor of childhood abuse, physical and/or sexual and is seeking revenge by targeting individuals who remind him of his abuser.” 

“He’s seeking power over these women.” Prentiss said. “Control and dominance which he may lack in his home or work life.” 

“Now, by finding the dump site, we’ve taken away some of his control.” Morgan added. “This adds pressure and may lead him to devolve or make a mistake. That’s what we’re counting on.” 

“After this briefing, I’ll be giving a press conference releasing this information to the public, warning women who fit the victimology to be careful and setting up a tip line.” JJ said. 

The assembled group of agents and local law enforcement all nodded, jotting down notes on the profile.

“Any questions?” Gregory asked, waiting a moment before continuing. “Alright, let’s go out and catch this guy.” 

Gregory sent a wink in Y/N’s direction. Hotch’s hands curled into fists at his side, scowling after the other agent. 

The team settled into the conference room for the rest of the afternoon, testing any theory and following any lead that might help narrow the search for the unsub. The local officers and agents weren’t making a lot of progress in their search, but for some reason that wasn’t bothering Hotch half as much as what was going on in the conference room. 

Gregory was practically glued to Y/N, always finding a reason to sit next to her or show her to the coffee station or touch her arm to get her attention. Hotch saw it all. 

And it was pissing him off. 

He knew he needed to cool off. His agitation was becoming less and less subtle as the day wore on– his tone harsher, his frown deeper, his posture more tense. He hoped the rest of the team wrote it off as stress about the case, but Hotch noticed the way Dave was looking between him and Y/N. 

He needed to get himself together. And quickly. 

Hotch checked his watch as evening settled in Seattle, getting up from the table. 

“I’m going to step out for a minute to call Jack.” He said, to no one in particular. 

“Is that another teammate?” Gregory asked, placing his hand on the small of Y/N’s back as he moved around her to the other side of the case board. 

“No,” Y/N laughed lightly, “Jack is Hotch’s son.”

Hotch was grateful for Y/N’s answer. He was too busy seething to answer himself. 

Y/N caught his eye, giving him a smile that made his scowl soften to a thin line. “Tell him we say hello.” 

“I will.” Hotch gave a short nod, turning towards the door before he made some unconvincing excuse for her to step out with him. 

Hotch paced away from the conference room, finding a quiet stairwell to make his phone call. 

“Hello?” The babysitter answered the phone. 

“Hi, Katie, it’s Aaron.” 

“Oh, hi Mr. Hotchner.” She said. “Did you want to talk to Jack?” 

“I just want to say good night before he goes to bed.” 

“Sure. Just a sec.” There was a rustle as she moved the phone away from her ear. “Jack, your dad is on the phone.” 

“Hi Dad,” Jack’s sweet voice came through, louder as he held the phone. 

“Hey buddy,” Hotch felt instantly more relaxed, “How was your day?” 

“It was good.” Jack said. “There were chicken nuggets at lunch today. But they weren’t dinosaur shaped so they didn’t taste as good.” 

Hotch smiled, “Of course not.” 

“Mr. Gutierez put a star on my spelling worksheet.” 

“That’s great! What did you spell?” 

“B-a-n-a-n-a, um...” Jack paused, trying to remember. “U-m-b-r-e-l-l-a...I can’t remember the rest.” 

“It’s okay, kiddo. That was really good.” 

“Thanks, Dad.” 

“The rest of the team all say hello.” Hotch said, looking down at the paint starting to chip off of the stair railing. 

“Is Y/N there?” 

Hotch felt his heart rate pick up, his chest tightening slightly. 

“She’s not with me right now but yeah, bud, she’s here.” Hotch said. “Why do you ask?” 

“She promised we would have another playdate like when I was sick last week and you played Eye Spy with me in your office.”

“Jack,” Hotch spoke carefully, “What do you think of Y/N?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean…” Hotch cleared his throat, hating the anticipation taking hold of him. “Do you like her? Do you like it when we spend time together?” 

“Yeah,” Hotch could practically see the tiny shrug of Jack’s shoulders. “She does funny voices when she reads stories.” 

“That’s right,” Hotch chuckled. “You remember that?” 

“It was  _ really _ funny.” Jack said. 

“Yeah,” Hotch said softly. “It was.” 

When Jack was still a toddler, he’d had to spend a few hours at the office between when Haley dropped him off and when Hotch could take him home. Hotch had returned from a meeting to see Y/N with Jack on her lap, a children’s book in front of them. Jack had been giggling like crazy, shouting “again, again!” 

Hotch smiled at the memory, his chest filling with an emotion completely different from the ones he’d been feeling all day. 

He sighed gently. “Alright buddy, you need to go to bed. It’s getting late over there.” 

“Okay...” Jack said. 

“Goodnight, Jack. I love you.” 

“Love you too, Dad.” 

“Sweet dreams.” Hotch said, hanging up the call. 

He returned to the conference room a calmer man. Although Gregory’s constant flirting tried his patience, Hotch was able to hold onto his control for a few more hours, focusing on the case as best he could. 

But eventually everyone was wearing down, contagious bouts of yawning making their way around the table as the theories began to fade. Close to ten, Hotch decided to call it a day, ushering the team out of the field office and over to the hotel for the night. 

Everyone was exhausted, dragging their feet through the lobby and into the elevator. Hotch watched as the team walked ahead of him down the hallway to their rooms, eager to drop into bed and get however many hours of sleep they could before resuming the chase in the morning. 

Hotch stopped in front of his own door, pulling the room key out of his wallet. 

“Hey, Hotch?” 

He stilled at the sound of her voice, turning to see Y/N standing in front of the room across from his.

“Are you okay?” She asked, taking a step forward as she studied his face. 

“What?” 

“I just–” She fiddled with her room key, a tentative look on her face. “You seemed tense today. I wanted to make sure...I mean, you don’t have to tell me anything obviously, but I am here for you if you wanted to talk.” 

Hotch blinked, affection blooming in his chest. He was touched at the offer, although he knew she was the last person he wanted to talk to about what had been bothering him. 

“I’m fine.” Hotch said, and now that it was just the two of them, with her soft gaze on him, he meant it. “But thank you.” 

“Hey, you’re welcome.” She smiled, “And the offer still stands if you’re ever, you know, not fine.” 

“I know.” 

Silence fell between them, heavy in the space separating him from her. He could feel all the things he wanted to say expanding in the air, pushing at him, daring him to voice them out loud. 

But he didn’t. 

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Hotch said, his voice hoarse. 

“Goodnight, Hotch.” She whispered, holding his gaze a moment longer before they both turned away to unlock their doors. 

Hotch walked into his room, tossing his go-bag carelessly onto the bed as the door clicked shut behind him. He took off his suit jacket, throwing it on top of the bag. He started pacing back and forth, reaching up to loosen his tie in agitation. 

Before he completely knew what he was doing, Hotch was opening the door again and striding across the hallway. He stopped outside her room, one hand braced against the door frame, the other raised to knock, when he came back to his senses. 

What was he planning to do– wait for her to open it... and then what? Tell her that he’d been tense all day because he couldn’t stand that someone else was interested in her? 

He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted her to open the door so he could lean in, hold her face in his hands, and kiss her. 

Hotch had been wanting to do that for a long time. 

He hadn’t realized it until just now, but that was exactly what he’d wanted for a long time. Well, not  _ exactly _ that. He wanted to do  _ more _ than kiss her, but  _ that _ was the strange feeling he’d had whenever she was around lately– a kind of pull. A longing for  _ her _ . 

He wanted to kiss her and to wake up with her and go to sleep next to her and make dinosaur chicken nuggets with her. 

He wanted to knock on the door. 

But he couldn’t. Not now. Not in the middle of a case, not late at night, not when he could be jeopardizing their friendship and her career all at once. Not when she might rather be with someone else– someone young and charming who didn’t come with so much baggage and trauma and commitments. 

Hotch pulled away from her doorway, turning back to the solace of his room and letting his door shut behind him. 

##  **F.B.I Field Office**

**Seattle, Washington**

**Wednesday | 7:00 a.m.**

The second day of a case always feels different from the first. At the beginning, everyone is energized, motivated and full of ideas on how to catch the unsub. By the second day, things are always more serious. The pressure has started to build, the stakes are getting higher, and everyone can feel it. 

This time, things are different. The seriousness remained, but there was something else too. You could feel it, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was. 

Whatever it was, it had Hotch on-edge and you hated to see him like that. You had hoped he’d open up last night, that he’d tell you what was bothering him and you might have helped him work through it. You wanted to help him. You wanted to ease whatever was troubling him. 

But he hadn’t opened up. 

It was weird. 

The only saving grace of the case so far was your newfound friendship in Agent Gregory. He was a sweet guy, friendly and funny, and you liked working with him. He was a bit flirty, but apart from friendly smiles, you didn’t reciprocate. The attention was flattering, but not what you were looking for. 

Although, as you walked into the conference room and Gregory presented you with a fancy cup of coffee, you realized he may not have understood your lack of interest. 

“Oh—coffee!” You said, surprised and not quite sure what else to say. 

You glanced at the others, seeing an amused smile on Prentiss’s face as she watched the exchange. Hotch, to your dismay, appeared to be leaving the room just as soon as he’d entered, catching Rossi’s arm on the way out and leading him away. 

Gregory’s smile faltered. “Do you—do you like coffee? I guess I should have asked.” 

“No. No, I do. I generally prefer tea but I think coffee will be more effective this morning.” You said. “Thank you, Agent Gregory.” 

“You’re welcome.” He nodded, smiling again. “And call me Sam.” 

“Oh, uh, okay. Sam.” You said, edging over towards a seat at the table. “Should we…?” 

“Yes.” Hotch said, sweeping back into the room with his usual professional gravitas, looking a bit more like his old self. “Let’s get started.” 

Rossi settled in the seat next to yours, putting another coffee cup on the table. This one had the string of a teabag draped over the lip. He slid the second cup closer to you, leaning over to speak quietly to you as the rest of the team took their seats. 

“Want to switch?” He offered with a certain level of humor in his tone. “I think Hotch gave this to me by mistake.” 

Your eyes widened as he picked up the coffee cup Gregory had given you, taking a sip.

“Ah,” Rossi nodded, winking at you. “Italian roast.” 

Hotch cleared his throat and you both turned back to look at him. You were still confused, but the tea was your favorite variety and it smelled really good, so you cradled the warm styrofoam in your hands and took a sip as Hotch addressed the group.

When he looked at you, noticing the cup in your hands, you thought you saw a hint of a smile on his face before he turned serious again, adopting his familiar, no-nonsense tone. 

“We’ve just been notified by Seattle PD of another body– Megan Harris, 32. She was restrained and stabbed to death before her uterus was removed.” Hotch said. “Her body was found downtown, left behind an office building.” 

“That’s new.” Prentiss said. 

“He’s devolving.” Morgan said. “Not enough time to find a new dumping ground.” 

“And changing the victimology.” Gregory noted, looking up from the police report, “This latest victim was married.” 

“Prentiss and L/N, you should go visit the victim’s home, talk to her husband.” Hotch said. “Reid, I want you and Morgan to visit the crime scene with Agent Gregory.”

Admittedly, you were disappointed not to be working with Hotch again, but catching the person responsible for killing these innocent women was more important than your feelings for your boss. 

You nodded, standing and following Prentiss out to one of the black SUVs. She got behind the wheel while you slid into the passenger seat, the two of you heading downtown to Megan Harris’s apartment. 

After a moment or two of silence, Prentiss finally asked, “What’s going on with you and Hotch?”

You coughed slightly, nearly choking on your sip of tea. “What?” 

“In all the years that we’ve been working together I’ve never seen him act like this.” She said. 

“I thought we’d agreed not to profile each other.” You said, feeling oddly defensive.

“Yeah, but I don’t have to profile him to see that something’s up.” Prentiss pressed. 

“Of course– I mean, he’s...I don’t know, he’s tense.” You said. “But it has nothing to do with me.” 

Prentiss glanced at you, looking unconvinced. 

“Seriously, I think this case is just stressing him out.” 

“Yeah…” Prentiss pressed her lips together, pulling into the apartment complex’s parking lot. “The  _ case _ is stressing him out.” 

She dropped the issue at that point as the two of you got out of the car and headed inside. While you had noticed the strangeness in Hotch’s behavior lately, you didn’t think it was about the case. But you weren’t sure it was about you, either. 

You couldn’t figure it out. 

It had started after you’d arrived in Seattle. Before that, he’d been his usual self– stern, but still kind. After reaching the field office, his bad mood had really seemed to hit. But it wasn’t constant. One second he looked like he wanted to punch a wall, and the next he was leaning over your chair and looking at you like...well, like he wanted the same thing you wanted but were too hesitant to say. And then the next second he was back to scowling at everything. His behavior had you confused, to say the least.

But you couldn’t afford to solve that particular puzzle right now. You and Prentiss had to focus on meeting with Megan Harris’s husband. 

Interviewing families of the victims was always difficult. The only thing harder was facing the families after the team was unable to save someone. You were all doing your jobs, trying your hardest, but it wasn’t always enough. 

Megan Harris’s husband was a lawyer named Peter. He seemed like a nice guy, with sandy hair and smile lines next to his eyes. The reality of losing his wife was still sinking in, he’d have to correct himself on using the present tense when he spoke about Megan, breaking down into tears every time. 

Even fighting his grief, Peter was able to tell you that Megan had received a phone call late the night before. He didn’t remember much, other than it had woken him up but Megan told him to go back to sleep– he’d had a deposition early this morning. She was gone when he woke up, but there was a note on the counter saying she’d gone into the doctor for an appointment. 

“Did that strike you as odd?” You’d asked. 

“I don’t know…” Peter scrubbed his hand over his face. “Not at the time.” 

“Did she say where the appointment was? Which doctor or office?” 

“Um, I think it was her gynecologist.” 

“Which office did she visit, Mr. Harris?” 

“Women’s Health Seattle. We’ve been–” He took a shaking breath, “We were talking about having kids. Oh, God.” 

He’d broken down again, and you and Prentiss decided it was best to step out. Neither of you spoke until you reached the parking lot again, too wrapped up in your thoughts about the case. 

“It just doesn’t make sense.” Prentiss said. “Garcia already checked that office, but it’s the only thing connecting all five victims.”

“Maybe it’s the hunting ground. The unsub watches and preys on them when they arrive.” 

“But we know he lures these women. I wouldn’t trust a man who came up to me on the street, especially not outside my gynecologist’s office.” Prentiss said. 

You stilled, her words setting the pieces into place in your mind. Quickly, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and called Garcia, putting your phone on speaker. 

“Goddess to Goddess Hotline, how may I direct your call?” 

“Garcia, I need you to run the list of employees at Women’s Health Seattle again, but include the whole staff, not just the doctors. Does anyone fit the profile?” 

“Let’s see...we have one, a receptionist sent into foster care at age ten after parental abuse.” Garcia sounded hesitant. “The mother was the abuser and died in prison a year ago.”

“That’s the stressor.” Prentiss said. “Garcia, what’s his name?” 

“ _ Her _ name is Eloise Gertz.”

“It fits the profile. Who would these women see as non-threatening and trustworthy more than another woman?” You said. “Garcia, can you pull the phone records on the clinic and Gertz’s cell?” 

“Already there, sugarbear,” Garcia said. “Gertz called Megan Harris last night at 11:43 and...oh no. Her most recent call was to a Meena Brown. She’s another patient at Women’s Health Seattle.” 

“We need to get to that clinic.” Prentiss said. 

Garcia supplied the address, adding, “Good luck.” 

“Thanks Garcia.” You said, hanging up as you and Prentiss ran back to the car. 

While Prentiss started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, you dialed a different number, holding the phone to your ear. 

“Hotchner.” 

“Hotch,” You said. “We know who the unsub is. Eloise Gertz. She’s a receptionist at Women’s Health Seattle. She may be targeting someone new, Meena Brown. Prentiss and I are headed there now.” 

“I’m taking the team to meet you.” You heard a commotion in the background. “Do not engage until we get there.” 

“Hotch–” 

“That’s an order.” 

You pressed your lips together. “Yes, sir.”

Hotch hung up. You lowered the phone, letting out a measured exhale. You were ashamed to admit it, but the command in his voice had sent a spark of excitement through you. You shook off the sensation, however, as Prentiss pulled up outside the medical complex. 

You were strapping on your vests when the other SUVs and police cars arrived. Hotch and Rossi stepped out of one car while Reid, Morgan, and Gregory climbed out of the other. 

Morgan and Gregory went inside with a team of officers and agents to check the office. You scanned the exterior of the building, noting an alleyway off to the side. 

“Guys,” You called, nodding in its direction. 

Hotch pulled his gun and you followed suit, approaching the alley side by side. 

“The office is clear.” Morgan’s voice came through your earpiece. 

“Gertz never came in this morning and there’s no sign of Meena Brown.” Gregory said. 

Just then, you heard voices ahead of you in the alley, behind a large dumpster. You raised your gun, rounding the corner to see two women. One of them, Meena Brown, was cowering against the building’s exterior wall, crying in sheer terror. The other, Eloise Gertz, brandished a knife at her, her eyes wild and her face filled with rage. 

“F.B.I!” You announced loudly, aiming your gun at Eloise, “Put the knife down, Eloise.” 

She shook her head, the blade still gripped tightly in her trembling fist. “No. No, they have to be stopped.”

“Eloise,” You said, softening your voice, “Eloise look at me.” 

She cut her eyes to you for a moment before glancing back at Meena Brown. You relaxed your stance, holding up your free hand and returning your gun to its holster. The movement drew Eloise’s full attention, although she now had her knife pointed at you. 

You saw Hotch tense in your peripheral vision, his hand readjusting its grip on his gun as he kept it trained on Eloise. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Eloise. No one is going to hurt you anymore.” You said, holding her gaze and keeping your voice calm. 

“No…” Eloise blinked hard, shaking her head again. “No, I have to–I have to stop her.”

“She’s not going to hurt you or anyone else.” You insisted. “We’re going to help you. You just have to put the knife down.” 

The anger began to fade from her expression, his grip loosening on the knife. 

“That’s it.” You said, “Just put it down, just like that.” 

As soon as the knife hit the ground, Hotch moved forward to arrest her. You went straight to Meena Brown, offering her your hand and helping her to her feet. 

“You’re alright,” You said softly as she shook with fear. “I’m with the F.B.I. You’re safe now, Meena.” 

When you’d calmed her enough that she could walk, you led her out to the street and helped her to one of the cars where another agent took over. 

Hotch appeared at your side, silent but his presence still calmed you. Together, you watched as Gregory put his hand on the back of Eloise Gertz’s head as she ducked into the back of a police car, her hands cuffed in front of her. 

You let out a breath, feeling the release of another case finished and the bittersweet emotions that entailed. 

“You did well back there.” Hotch said, and you turned to find his gaze on you– soft again, like it had been in the hotel hallway. “Maybe you should teach the crisis negotiating class too.” 

You laughed slightly, your heart swelling with relief at the sound of him making a joke. 

“That’s quite a compliment coming from the guy who literally wrote the textbook.” 

“Co-wrote.” He corrected, an almost-smile lifting at the side of his mouth. 

“Oh, that’s completely different, then.” 

Hotch looked back out at the activity in the street, agents and police officers rushing around and handling the scene. You kept your eyes on him, giving into the ever-present desire to admire him for just a moment longer. 

##  **F.B.I Field Office**

**Seattle, Washington**

**Wednesday | 1:24 p.m.**

Hotch walked into the conference room. “Wheels up in an hour.”

The team nodded or gave quick acknowledgements as they continued wrapping up the final loose ends of the case. Y/N sat on one side of the table, trying to get some of her paperwork done before the flight home. 

He was continuously struck by her– how capable she was in handling the unsub earlier, how she remained calm even in the face of danger when he felt like his chest might explode with fear, how she could be so beautiful just existing there in front of him. She had always been this way, always impressed him, always drew his eyes, but he hadn’t really taken the time to let it all wash over him like this. 

Hotch stepped towards her, more out of instinct and impulse than anything else, he didn’t have any reason other than he just wanted to be near her. 

But he wasn’t the only one. 

Gregory sat down in the chair beside her before Hotch could get any closer, putting his hand on her arm. She looked up at him with a questioning smile. Hotch stilled, his chest constricting in unease and understanding alike. 

He knew exactly what was about to happen. And he hated it. 

“Y/N,” Gregory cleared his throat. “I know this is a little...uh, I guess I’m just thinking I’ve wasted enough time since you got here and there’s only an hour left so I’d better just go for it.”

Y/N shifted in her seat, laughing nervously. “What?” 

“Would you like to go get lunch with me? Or a coffee?” Gregory asked. “Anything, really.”

Thrumming with agitation and anger and frustration, Hotch turned on his heel and left the conference room. He didn’t wait to hear her accept, he didn’t stop to watch them leave together, he didn’t turn back to see her beautiful smile directed at someone that wasn’t him. 

Hotch beelined for the back stairwell. He must have looked terrifying, his scowling glare in full force as agents moved quickly out of his way. The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing off the metal steps. 

Hotch paced back and forth on the landing, cursing himself. 

He needed to stop this– wanting her. He had no right to feel the anger or the protectiveness or the  _ want _ . She deserved so much better than he could ever give her. She deserved the world. 

“Dammit.” Hotch cursed, hitting the railing with the heel of his palm. 

“Woah, what’d those stairs do to you?” 

Hotch turned, bringing his hand up to rub his forehead in agitation. “Not now, Dave.” 

Rossi ignored him, walking further into the stairway and letting the door shut out the noise of the field office behind him. 

“You should tell her how you feel.” 

Hotch set his jaw. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh, come on, Aaron.” Rossi shook his head. “You chase serial killers for a living and you can’t ask a woman to dinner?” 

“It’s not–It’s not that simple.” 

“Yeah? Why not?” 

“I can’t just ask her to dinner. I’d be asking for more than that.” Hotch grimaced. “I’d be asking her to risk her career and our working relationship. And I have a kid, Dave. I’m not–look, she can  _ just _ go out to dinner with someone like Gregory. She should.” 

Hotch paced away again, agitation still buzzing in his nerves. 

“But she’s not.”

Hotch stilled, turning back to look at his friend. 

“If you’d waited a second before your dramatic exit back there,” Rossi intoned, “You would’ve heard her tell Gregory she wasn’t interested.” 

Hotch’s entire mood shifted 180 degrees, disappointment and regret replaced all at once by hope. His doubts remained in the rational side of his brain, all the reasons  _ not to _ were still there. But she had rejected Gregory. She had said no and Hotch’s chest tightened at the possibility that she had done it because of him. 

“Just tell her how you feel.” 

Hotch looked at the door, wanting so badly to open it and find her and do just that. But Aaron Hotchner was a man with a lifetime of practice controlling his impulses, of doing the rational thing, of thinking before acting. 

“I can’t.” 

“You deserve to be happy, Aaron.” 

Hotch looked back at his friend, chest tightening with emotion at the sincerity in Rossi’s voice and expression. 

“You deserve to be happy, and so does she. It’s as simple as that.” Rossi said, opening the door again. “Things are only complicated if you make them complicated.” 

He walked back into the office, leaving Hotch alone again in the stairwell. Hotch leaned back against the wall, tipping his head back against the painted concrete. 

He had a lot to think about. 

Hotch spent the entire flight to Quantico thinking. He’d been the last one on the jet, his phone still pressed to his ear as he talked to Jack. He pretended not to notice the pointed looks Rossi was sending him, nodding not-so-subtly to the empty seat next to Y/N. 

But he did sit next to her, his chest constricting as she smiled widely at him. He let himself smile back. 

He sat beside her and thought while she and Reid played chess and talked. He thought about the commitment he’d be asking her to make. He thought about how badly he wanted to reach for her. He thought about what Strauss would say if she knew the two of them were in a relationship. He thought about how much Jack loved Y/N, about how effortless she was with him. 

Hotch tried not to watch her, but he couldn’t help himself. Every so often she’d glance at him, a kind of curious and hopeful look on her face. He always had to look away before he gave into impulse and kissed her. 

He looked down at the file that he’d opened across his lap without reading any of it. Instead, he continued to think. 

Hotch thought about how smart she was, always on top of every case they worked together. He thought about how beautiful the sound of her laugh was. He thought about how she looked at him– respect and affection and like she knew him beyond his stern exterior. Because, he realized, she did. 

Eventually, Hotch stopped thinking. At least not in his usual orderly way. By the time the team was walking into the BAU’s bullpen at Quantico to drop off their paperwork and finish up whatever tasks remained before heading home, Hotch’s thoughts were a jumbled mix of  _ her _ . 

He walked past her desk, watching as she flicked a piece of hair out of her face as she logged into her computer. Hotch headed into his office, although his mind remained with her. He dropped his go-bag onto the couch, pacing over to his desk and sitting heavily down in his chair. 

Then he was on his feet again, pacing the floor in front of his desk. Hotch reached up and loosened his tie. He strode to the door, stopping with his hand on the handle as he took a breath. 

Feeling calmer, more assured than he had in a long time, Hotch opened the door. He stepped out onto the walkway that overlooked the bullpen, setting his hands on the railing along the edge of the walkway. 

“L/N,” He called, “Could I see you in my office for a moment?” 

She looked up, surprised at the request. The rest of the team looked up as well, looking between the two of them with a series of expressions ranging from knowing smiles to confused frowns. Y/N nodded, walking away from her desk and towards his office. 

Hotch stepped back into his doorway, waiting until she was inside before shutting the door and following her in. She perched on the arm of one of the chairs across from his desk like she always did. The familiar gesture made his chest squeeze with affection. 

Instead of sitting in his chair and leaving the desk as a barrier between them, Hotch leaned against his desk in front of her. 

“Is everything okay?” She asked, watching him with care and concern. 

“Yes.” Hotch nodded. 

“Okay…” She shifted, smiling nervously. “What’s up?” 

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” 

The question came out far smoother than he’d ever anticipated. Y/N’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth and then closed it again. She stood up, fidgeting with her hands. 

“Dinner? Like–” 

“A date.” Hotch said, stepping closer. “I’d like to take you on a date.” 

“Yes,” She breathed, a bright smile stretching across her face. “I’d like that.” 

Hotch couldn’t help but smile back, affection and joy filling his chest. “Good.” 

##  **F.B.I Behavioral Analysis Unit Headquarters**

**Quantico, Virginia**

**Monday | 2:45 p.m.**

“Your final papers are due in my box on Friday at three.” You announced, clicking off the projector. “It’s been a pleasure teaching you all during this course. I hope to someday see you around the BAU. Alright, class dismissed.” 

You stayed at your desk for a few minutes, chatting with the handful of students who came up to thank you. Over the last three months of teaching the profiling course, they had shown the most potential and you did sincerely hope to see them in the BAU at some point. They made you feel better about the prospect of moving on someday. The unit would still be in good hands. 

Behind your students, you saw a familiar figure standing by the back wall. Meeting his gaze from across the room, you sent him a smile. He watched you with a soft expression, waiting until the last of them reluctantly shuffled from the classroom. 

“What brings the unit chief of the BAU to my humble classroom?” You asked cheekily, sitting on the edge of your desk. 

“Looking for potential recruits.” Hotch said, walking closer to you. “Any recommendations, Professor?” 

“A few, actually.” 

“The standard for the BAU is high.” 

“I heard they let anybody join.” You shrugged, smiling up at him as he stopped to stand in front of you. 

“Not just anybody.” Hotch said, leaning closer. “You have to sleep with the right people first.” 

You gasped, slapping him lightly in the shoulder. “ _ That _ is not workplace appropriate, Agent Hotchner.”

He smiled, closing the remaining space between you and pressing his lips to yours as if to say, ‘I’ll show you workplace appropriate.’ You melted against him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him back. 

After a moment, he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. 

“Hi.” You said. 

He smiled. “Hi.” 

“How long were you standing back there?” 

“Long enough.” He said, giving you another kiss. “You’re a good teacher. I think I’ll take the course next time too.” 

“You  _ could  _ use a refresher.” You mused. 

“Hey.” He said, holding his stern face for only a moment before his expression softened again, his hand brushing your waist. 

“Did I miss anything upstairs?” 

“The usual antics you all think I don’t notice.” Hotch said, shaking his head. 

“You like it.” You said. “That’s why you pretend not to notice.” 

“We should go out tonight.” He said, changing the subject. “Jack’s at a sleepover. We can go to a restaurant that doesn’t serve anything dinosaur shaped.” 

You hummed thoughtfully, sliding your hand over the lapel of his suit. “That sounds nice.” 

“But?” 

“I don’t know,” You shrugged, “I also like the idea of just staying in and celebrating. With you. Alone…” 

He kissed you again, this time with more intensity. 

“I like that idea too,” He said, pulling back to look at you as he brushed some hair away from your face. “But I want to do something special tonight. For you.” 

You couldn’t help but smile, warmth spreading through your chest at the way he cared for you. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay.” Hotch wrapped his arms around you. You let your head rest against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat comfort and calm you. It was the best place to be. 

“I love you.” You told him softly. 

Hotch pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are always appreciated <3


End file.
